


Sick Finn

by amanda_jolene



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, sick Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:24:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanda_jolene/pseuds/amanda_jolene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn's got a fever and Rae's playing nurse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Finn

Rae blames Finn’s sickness on the ever present draft in ther crap apartment. 

He’s got the sniffles and congestions and now a faver that’s been nudging upwards for the last hour. Her mum told her to sweat it out of him so she makes him pack on a ridiculous amount of jumpers and piles blankets on him until he loses shape in the mess. 

"Once I emerge from my cocoon, I’ll be the most beautiful butterfly you’ve ever seen." 

"Stop talking, I’m trying to take take your temp," she tells him crossly (he’s been a bit delirious for the last house and cute as he was, she was running off no sleep and was surely running out of patience). 

"Wouldn’t it be cool if I came out as a dragon? Wings and all? I’d carry you far away so we’d never have to go to class or work. Caw caw, motherfucker." 

"I don’t think dragons say caw caw." 

"Well, I would." He shifts beneath the blankets and she knows he’s gearing up for another round of whining. "I’m itchy." 

"Told you not to put the wool jumper on first. Are you ready to eat yet?" 

"No, but I would enjoy a kiss. I don’t have the plague you know." 

"Close enough." 

"Come on now," he tries to move but she’s got him securely tucked in all the blankets and he just manages to shimmy around a bit before finally giving up. "You won’t get sick." 

"I will and then you’ll have to take care of me." 

"And then you can pay me back in blow jobs and mint tea." He finds this exceedingly hilarious and laughs until he starts coughing. 

"Yeah and then you’d be sick again and we’d get stuck in this vicious cycle of sexual favors and the common cold. Just behave." 

He refuses his dinner and starts getting more listless and more delirious as the night progresses and his fever spikes. 

"Remember when that squirrel ran me over?" He asks her, his cheeks flushed with fever. 

"As I recall, you almost ran it over and wrecked." 

"Well, I don’t remember it that way at all," he tells her stiffly and she laughs a bit when he tells her it galloped towards him not the other way around which makes him pout even further. "Please stop ignoring me and pet my hair." 

She figures what the hell (it will give her a chance to keep a feel on his fever) so she puts his head in her lap and strokes his hair and worries because even his scalp is burning up. 

"Do you still read my letter?" 

She knows exactly what letter he’s referring to. “Yes.” 

"Why?" 

"Because sometimes it’s nice to remember what all we’ve gone through."

"Hasn’t been all happy." 

"No," she agrees. "But we always end up happy." 

She wakes up hours later and his fever has broke and he’s sweating through the layers, still delirious. She peels him out of all of his jumpers and brings him ice water to sipe while she wipes a cold washrag across his forehead. 

"Rae?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Am I a beautiful butterfly yet?" 

"Yep." she kisses his head. "Most beautiful one I’ve ever layed eyes on." (and as she takes in his lazy smile, she knows he means it).


End file.
